


Sights to Behold (at Both Ends of the Globe)

by Dancains



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fill, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 09:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19170946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancains/pseuds/Dancains
Summary: Despite Thomas's concern, it hadn't been merely the physical symptoms of his snow-blindness that had plagued Edward's stomach with sickening anxiety for the past few days. He let out a deeply held breath, extending an upturned hand. Thomas gave it an assuaging squeeze."I was worried I would never be able to look upon you again. The only comfort I had, being dragged back on the sledge like an invalid, was knowing that I had already been blessed by the sight of you--of your beauty--and would always carry the memory of that vision, even if I was to never see again.""Edward," Thomas's voice cracked.





	Sights to Behold (at Both Ends of the Globe)

**Author's Note:**

> For the 3 word tumblr prompt sent by Vegetas ("Don't touch that")...I've really been mulling it over or a while. Hope you enjoy :))
> 
> Copious historical facts taken nearly word for word from the book "Erebus" by Michael Palin. Technically, the story about the rooster involved the /other/ captain's steward, on Erebus, but I couldn't help but work it in. Some other minor details are my own creation, as well (you can probably guess what).

Edward roused, slightly, at the sound of his cabin door sliding open, but it was the accompanying voice, low and bleeding with tender concern, that had him bolt upright.

"How are you feeling?" Thomas asked. "I imagine you're in a great deal of pain."

Edward's heart nearly leapt from his breast. The misery he'd been feeling began to drain away like melting snow.

"It's gotten better, somewhat. The drops have helped." His voice sounded almost as dry and gritty as his eyes felt, still stinging and watering under his bandages. He didn't want Thomas to worry for him, though.

From what Edward could tell from his dulled sense of light and dark, he hadn't brought a lantern or a candle. The man had eyes like that a cat, Edward had once privately observed, and he wouldn't have been surprised if Thomas could see perfectly in the dark. His footfalls, too, were always as silent as a clever house cat's padding paws.

Edward reached instinctively to remove the bandages; he hadn't set eyes on Thomas since his return from the failed lead-scouting party. Even if he was in discomfort, he had regained his sight enough in the last day or so to be able to make out broad, blurry shapes.

 _"Don't touch that."_ Thomas whispered sharply. More gingerly, he added, "I know you're under orders to keep them on. Don't risk the recovery of your health for my sake."

Despite Thomas's concern, it hadn't been merely the physical symptoms of his snow-blindness that had plagued Edward's stomach with sickening anxiety for the past few days. He let out a deeply held breath, extending an upturned hand. Thomas gave it an assuaging squeeze.

"I was worried I would never be able to look upon you again. The only comfort I had, being dragged back on the sledge like an invalid, was knowing that I had already been blessed by the sight of you--of your beauty--and would always carry the memory of that vision, even if I was to never see again."

"Edward," Thomas's voice cracked. He gave a long pause before continuing. "According to the captain, Dr. McDonald says you will make a full recovery, in very short time. As always, you...you hold me in too high an esteem."

He shook his head, knowing it was useless to argue. He loved Thomas for far more than his appearance, though everything he had said was ore than true. From past experience, it was always a singular delight to bring a blush to Thomas's face with such attentions. At least now, robbed of such a visual display, Edward could still hear the embarrassed delight in his voice.

Thomas moved closer, threading his fingers through Edward's hair, where some of the longer strands had escaped the confines of the bandaging. With a contented sigh, Edward leaned into the touch.

"How long might you stay? Would you..would you hold me?"

He remembered one night when Thomas snuck into his bunk, and after they had made love they had simply laid together like two silver spoons in a drawer, Thomas's back tucked up to his chest, wholly satisfied in each other's silent, comforting presence. Now he ever so desired the reverse.

"Of course."

The mattress dipped, and he felt Thomas's hand on his shoulder. They kissed, familiar and loving and sweet, the sensation made all the more potent by Edward's blindness. It seemed, finally, true relief washed over him. He laid back down, turning himself on his side, to face the bulkhead, and Thomas moved in turn to press behind him, one arm slung possessively over his side.

What must have been Thomas's nose brushed his ear, before Edward could feel his warm, whispering breath. "Is there anything else you'd like?"

The steward's hand came to his hip, toying with the hem of Edward's trousers, though with no urgency or force in the movement. Any other time, it would have been a tantalizing offer, but Edward found himself sleepy, despite being in bed all day, and happy to merely stay as they were. 

He shook his head again, certain that Thomas could feel the minute movement. "I just want to hear your voice. Tell me, hmm...tell me more about your time in Antarctica. Something I haven't heard before."

They had spoke at length before, about the expedition of '39, when the very ship they were now on had explored the southern-most parts of the globe, traveling lower in latitude than any other known voyage. 

Before their relationship had become what it was now, nearly at the start of their current expedition, Edward had found an occasion to pepper Thomas with questions about it, too embarrassed to beg his rather taciturn new captain for firsthand stories. Of course, the lieutenant had researched everything he could about the polar regions, north and south, before taking his post on _Terror_ , including accounts of Ross and Crozier's previous Antarctic expedition, but he had not truly experienced such parts of the world yet, not as Thomas had.

He had been utterly rapt in fascination, as Thomas told him of the strange islands far south, the penguins and other unique wildlife that occupied them, about the active volcano they had discovered, aptly christened _Mount Erebus_ (along with its dormant twin, named after _Terror_ ) and about the giant ice wall they had come finally across, larger and more awe-inspiring than anything Thomas had ever seen.

The glimmering white barrier, towering above the ships some two-hundred feet and seemingly endless from side to side, prohibited any further penetration into the Antarctic continent. It had been Thomas's second Naval voyage, and at the start of it he had only been twenty-three years of age.

"Have I told you of Old Tom the cock?"

Edward hummed with curiosity, "no."

"It was in eighteen-forty, I believe, before we had so much as reached Van Dieman's Land. Among other things, we had brought livestock with the hope of populating some of the islands we landed upon, so that later they might be more easily colonized by people, I suppose..."

Even though the ship was entirely still, Edward could imagine the slow, even cadence of Thomas's voice rocking him into sleep.

"Among them was a cock and a hen," Thomas steadily continued, "the male of the species being nicknamed Old Tom. Despite its crowing at odd hours, and being a general nuisance, it was a sort of beloved pet to the men. And somehow, when we were in sight of Kerguelen Island, a rather miserable place where Mr. And Mrs. Tom were set to finally be released, he met his untimely demise. It was my sad duty to give him a proper sailor's grave."

"Let me guess, by tossing Old Tom over the gunwale?"

"Yes," Thomas answered, mock-grave, "though, without a proper funeral dirge." He rubbed his cheek against Edward's hair. "I'm sorry, love, it's not a very good story."

Edward chuckled. "I thought it was. And I'm eminently grateful that it was _young_ Tom, in place of Old Tom, who returned safely to England."

Thomas shifted, pressing a kiss to the back of Edward's neck. It sent a ripple of warmth through him.

"Tell me about the extravagant ball that was held on the ships when you returned to Van Diemen's Land. Sir John has mentioned it in passing, some time over dinner--it must have been a sight to behold, even if you were occupied by your duties."

"Actually," Thomas let out a little puff of air, a laugh, "the captain insisted that I enjoy the ball as a guest. I suppose a man of his position is allowed that sort of whimsy, occasionally. In fact, in preparation, he taught me how to dance."

"What?" He half-turned towards Thomas, nearly forgetting he could not see the man's face, nor the play of emotion across its features. "Tell me that's not a jest." It was a funny sight to imagine, but also incredibly dear. In these past two years he had grown very fond of both men, albeit in different ways. Though he was sure neither would ever voice it, he knew Thomas was like a son to the man who had not fathered any sons of his own.

"I'm was very grateful. Though, I think it was just as much for his sake--to practice. Our initial stop in Hobart, in Van Diemen's Land, was where he had met Miss Cracroft, Sir John's neice. Far be it for me to gossip, but...I believe he was enamored at first sight, and that he wanted to make a good impression upon her at the ball. You would have barely recognized him, how high his spirits were then."

Edward had heard of the lady before, had heard rumor, even, that she had later rejected a proposal from the sea captain, perhaps even more than once. He didn't want to dwell on it, saddened by any notion of unrequited love. "Did you dance at the ball?"

Thomas stroked his arm thoughtfully, "let me set the scene for you, first, since you wished to hear of it."

"Alright," Edward hummed, still buzzing with quiet curiosity.

'It was the beginning of June, if I remember correctly, and the weather was lovely. It started early in the evening, as carriages full of all the well-to-do ladies and gentlemen of Hobart were directed from Government house, where Sir John and Lady Jane lived, down to the waterside. We had bedecked both ships with Chinese lanterns, beautiful exotic things, and drew tarpaulins over each deck for cover. _Erebus_ was to be the ballroom, and _Terror_ the dining room. The ships were joined to the bank by a bridge of boats, so the guests had to cross over, under a sort of canvas-covered arcade decorated with flags and foliage."

"Like the mouth of a grotto."

"Yes, so that after wending along a gloomy narrow passage for some sixty or seventy yards, a flood of light burst upon them, as they stepped from the gangway up to the quarter deck. There the guests were each greeted by Captain Crozier--then Commander--and Captain Ross, both looking very smart in their dress uniforms, I might add.

Someone had had the clever idea of hanging the ships with all the mirrors we had brought along, as gifts for any natives we might encounter. I think there were something like 700 mirrors in all, and the way they reflected all the light...it was beautiful."

Edward could picture it all, clear as day, with Thomas as the shining centerpiece of it all.

"Captain Ross's cabin, and _Erebus's_ gun room had been turned into ladies' dressing room for the evening," Thomas continued, with an air of mirth, "with mirrors and hair-pins and bottles of eau-de-cologne. Not a thing hadn't been made lovely--the steps to the lower deck covered in red baize and the hatchway entrance hung with rosettes of red bunting, candles in front of all the mirrors on _Terror_ , and nearly everything else bedecked and draped in black and scarlet cloth. There were not one, but two, band stands to play music. Supper had already been laid out, and it seemed there was more wine and port and champagne to go about than there was water in the sea. And all the usual toasts and speeches of course, the things typical to such Naval functions. Then everyone danced on the deck of _Erebus_ until probably six in the morning."

Edward could hear the glee in every word, even as Thomas tried to conceal it. Even if he now wished he had been there, he was so happy for Thomas to have experienced it.

"Did _you_ dance, love?"

"Yes. A young lady did dance with me. Well, actually, two. Quite elegantly dressed. I tried to insist to the first that I was only a steward, that I wasn't worthy of her time, but, oddly, she didn't care. Nor the other. They were both agreeable, I suppose, and far better dancers than I."

Edward desperately wished he could see Thomas's face, to search it for some hint of irony. How could the man be so utterly blind to his own positive attributes?

"Thomas, why should a lady care about rank, when she has a devastatingly handsome man set before her? Far more handsome, I imagine, than any of the men there with epaulettes on their shoulders or medals on their chests."

Thomas gave an indifferent, embarrassed sort of noise. "They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder," he replied demurely.

"Would you think me utterly foolish...for boiling over with jealously, even all these years later."

"Edward!" Thomas gasped, holding him even tighter.

Reveling in the solid weight of him, Edward could feel a half-hardness against the back of his thigh; he was in a similar state, a near-automatic reaction to Thomas's proximity. Edward shifted, pushing back and rutting himself teasingly against his lover.

"If such a thing pleased you," Thomas canted his hips just slightly, sounding amused, "I would be a very willing dance partner. For you, and you only."

"One day," Edward breathed, "we will. Properly. With music, and everything. At my home, just the two of us. Or even at an some great Naval ball, in front of everyone. Damn what the stodgy old admiralty might think."

Thomas laughed softly, the sound sparkling with delight. "I think--in that case--being the senior officer, you should lead. We must maintain _some_ impression of order."

Pushing off the bed linens, Edward carefully rolled to his other side, so he could slot his and Thomas's legs together, their lips mere inches apart. Relying solely on his well-practiced sense of touch, he began to unknot Thomas's neck cloth. "If you insist."


End file.
